


Platinum Record

by Corvid_Knight



Series: Integrated Worlds [15]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi, Parties, Striders talking about things, Underage Drinking, but not because of the dresses, guys in dresses (for reasons i can't quite remember), i mean. He's 20., integrated worlds au, slight threat of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 13:14:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14853437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_Knight/pseuds/Corvid_Knight
Summary: Dave ends up at a party, and his past comes back to fuck with him. A little. (In his defense, it started as Karkat's problem.)





	Platinum Record

**Author's Note:**

> (credit to ShikiMagica for the title!)

Roxy's the one who finds out about the party. Of course she is. And she's the one who sets everything up, acquires both tickets and, well. Everything else required. 

Which is why you're standing in front of a mirror, trying to figure out how the _hell_ girls zip up their dresses. Like, you've been struggling for five full minutes. Your hair's fucked up, your shades are on the floor, and your boyfriend is leaning against the wall laughing like an idiot. 

"John, maybe _help_ me?" You kind of hate admitting that you can't do this yourself, and the fact that John just keeps cackling as you glare at him really doesn't help. The asshole went with a fluffy skirt borrowed from Jade instead of a dress like you, which means he isn't stuck (literally) with a zipper up the back. "Please?" 

"Nah, I gotcha Dirk," Dave says from behind you, succeeding in making you jump. How the hell did you not see or hear him coming up behind you? "Damn, did this used to be Roxy's dress?" 

"There's absolutely no way I'd fit into—" You lose the rest of that sentence in a yelp as Dave manages to catch your skin as he pulls the zipper up. Holy shit that hurts. This'll teach you to not try on clothes before you buy them. 

Not that you intend to make buying dresses a regular thing. 

Then again, you do look pretty good.

Because you let Jake and John choose your outfit by committee, you ended up in a black dress (with sleeves, thank god; John voted for this one strapless, barely ass-length thing and was just barely vetoed) with a neckline that comes high up on your throat and a hemline that falls almost to your knees. With the knockoff white converses that you stole from Roxy, this is...well, some kind of a look. 

Dave pulls at your shoulder and takes a step back, raising an eyebrow as he looks you over. "Cute. But your hair's all fucked up." 

"I'm _aware._ " You give John another pointed glare. He ignores it. "Aren't you planning on getting dressed?" 

"Uh." Whoops. You found an uncomfortable spot; that's obvious by how Dave shrugs and goes over to dig through your backpack. It's kind of really funny that he knows exactly what pocket your hair gel's in. 

"I'm dressed," he says finally, coming back over to start messing with your hair and kind of obviously avoiding eye contact. "Wearing one of Jane's suits _totally_ counts. It's girl clothes—" 

"The thing said 'dress or skirt' for guys, dude," John points out. 

"Zip it, Egbert." Fucking hell, but you wish John was a _little_ better at reading your expression. Specifically, when you're trying to get him to shut him up through the sheer force of your glare. "I'm pretty sure they can't make you leave. Rox got you a ticket, after all." 

"Cool." Your cousin takes his hands away from your hair, tilts his head critically for a moment, then nods decisively. "There you go. Nice 'n spiky again, ya fuckin' weeb." 

"Shut _up_ , asshole," you tell him, and shove him and John both towards the door.

* * *

Karkat, Roxy, and Calliope are in the kitchen; the former's getting his makeup applied by the two latter. You're not really sure how that works—as in, how they're not getting in each other's way. Then again, it could be a girlfriend thing, like the equivalent of how John and Jake can seamlessly team up to tease the shit out of you when they want to. Wait, no, that's a family thing...okay, you're overthinking again. 

You have the good fortune to be looking at Dave when he clears the doorway and gets a good look at the troll; he actually stops dead, not even moving when John walks right into him. The great part is that you even have a name for the look on Dave's face right now: _Extremely Fucking Gay._

Not that you blame him. Karkat's been expertly painted, dark eyeshadow, candy-red lipstick and eyeliner to match, plus probably a fuckton of products that you're not all too familiar with. He's fucking _gorgeous_. He's also got his eyes closed, so when Dave nudges Callie's deft hands aside and leans down to very carefully kiss his forehead, the troll makes a startled sound that sounds like a frog being grabbed. 

John snorts, and you reach back and smack him without turning around. 

Then you _do_ turn around, because your dumbass boyfriend's response to corporal punishment is to grab your skirt and yank it up, high enough that if you were wearing panties and not boxers you would've _totally_ just flashed Rox and Callie both. Now, you know that Rox has probably seen every kind of underwear on three planets, but Callie here is some kind of innocent, delicate—

Dammit, you're not fooling anyone. She gave you hand-drawn pics of your boyfriends for your birthday. You don't know if they posed for them, or if she's just really good at judging what humans look like shirtless, but either way she's probably seen more interesting shit than your drawers. 

You still punish John. Mostly by pinning him against the wall and pulling his shirt up enough to tickle his ribs until he's wheezing. When you turn your attention back to the others, Dave has cherry-red lipstick on his face and Roxy's trying to talk him into letting her fix his eyelashes. And fuck, he's got that uncomfortable look on his face, obviously trying to figure out how to say no without saying no.

Okay. Time to step in for your (kind of, adopted, whatever the fuck) bro. "Roxy." 

"Yeah?" She pauses in her examination of her makeup collection to glance over at you, one eyebrow going up. Dammit, she learned how to do that just to irritate you. You, unfortunately, can't control your facial muscles quite so well.

"What time are we supposed to meet everyone else?" You know the answer. 

"Uh, eight, right?" 

"Yeah, exactly. We have ten minutes; we're _definitely_ going to be late. Dave and I are going to just have to be plain and unadulterated today, sorry." 

Roxy pouts for a second, then grins wickedly as Dave takes this opening to abscond, snagging his keys off the counter as he goes. "Nope." 

You don't trust that look. "What?" 

"Dave's driving, me and Callie have experience doing makeup in a moving vehicle, you and John get to be dolled up by the time we get there. C'mon, dork!" 

John groans as the cherub takes his hand to lead him out, and you know him well enough to know he's rolling his eyes so hard they're about to fall out of his head. "Did I sign up for this?" he asks, and you're not even sure who he's directing it at. Possibly you. Possibly Roxy. Possibly god. 

Callie just giggles and more-or-less drags him out the door. You allow Roxy to guide you out in a slightly more dignified manner; gotta keep the cool Strider facade intact, after all.

* * *

You end up with black lipstick in your mouth, and it tastes awful. But when Roxy finally quits fussing at you to hold still, lets you check out her work in the mirror, you have to admit that she's good at this. Made you look good. 

John looks cute too, even if Calliope has to smack his hand away from his face before he can rub his eyes and fuck up the eyeliner. You have a sinking suspicion that keeping him from ruining the cherub's work is about to become _your_ job. 

Oh, well. At least nobody says anything about Dave's outfit at the door; they let all of you in, and it takes you maybe a minute to locate the people who you were supposed to be meeting.

Well, to locate _Hal_ , anyway. He's leaning against the wall, very blatantly flirting with a short greenblooded troll who obviously knows he's just playing with her. She rolls her eyes at each of his advances, parrying them with a smile. 

Hal is unfairly attractive right now; he's gone the route of a technically gender-neutral outfit, black leggings and a red, almost-sheer top that's got some kind of sparkling thread woven into the flowing fabric. That goes really fucking well with the red glitter dusting his white hair. 

He looks up from the troll as you walk over, raising an eyebrow. Goddamnit, you're pretty sure his eyeliner looks better than yours. "Black?" 

You resist the urge to wipe at your mouth. You've been resisting that same urge for the past five minutes. "Roxy's pick, not mine." 

"Well, in that case, I suppose I won't insult it." He grins wickedly, and adds, "Make sure to tell her I said you look nice. Anyway, this _lovely_ lady is Yantis Karuhi. Yantis, meet the less awesome Strider." 

"Says you." You smile at the greenblood, not letting your surprise at getting a good look at the too-bright ring of her irises show at all. Your twin has, apparently, met a goddamn _limeblood._ "Dirk Strider. I apologize for my brother, if that's necessary—" 

"Oh, it isn't." Yantis smiles back at you, just the tips of feline fangs showing. "I'm beginning to think all Striders are gentlemen, actually." 

Hal smirks, and you're actually wincing before he says anything. "Right now, I think Dirk counts as a stunning gentleman, even." Okay, that's less insulting than you expected. While you're still working out how to react, he adds, "Weren't you supposed to bring another Strider, anyway?" 

"Yeah. Four, actually, if you count John and Karkat as Striders by way of dating blood Striders." 

"True. And Roxy is some sort of corollary Strider as well, isn't she?" 

"Probably." 

"And you left them where, exactly?" Hal cocks an eyebrow. 

Hm. Good question. 

After a minute of glancing around the room and trying to remember what the fuck everybody was wearing, you locate Roxy and Callie over with Jane and a goldblood troll you don't recognize, and John over with Jake on the other end of the room. John seems to be being introduced to Rufioh. He looks slightly unnerved, which is kind of understandable. Your boyfriend's matesprit isn't just a tall motherfucker, he's got that archeologypunk thing going on. Plus the horns. And the wings. 

Maybe you need to go retrieve John...eh, nah, Jake can defuse that situation. At least, that's the assumption you're going to roll with until you find Dave and/or Karkat. 

"Two o'clock for Karkat, noon for Dave," Hal says quietly. The teasing note's suddenly left his voice. "Yantis, you're going to have to excuse us for a minute, sorry." And he grabs your arm, pulling you towards the candy-blooded troll before you can even process what said troll is doing. 

When you do? You realize that yeah, there's about to be a problem. Karkat's standing there with his arms crossed and his shoulders hunched down defensively, very carefully not making eye contact with the indigoblood who's listing all the reasons the old hemocaste system was better, why mutants should be culled at hatching like they used to be. The asshole's stunningly unobservant, since Karkat's literally dressed in his blood color for once, but you really don't want to know where this conversation is going to go once he realizes who he's talking to. 

And then the indigo snaps, "You're not listening, lil' lowblood scum," and reaches over to grab Karkat's chin and force him to meet his eyes. Karkat lets put a fearful hiss, Hal swears under his breath, and you know that shit may be about to go down as you see the indigo's eyes first widen in surprise, then narrow in rage. 

You and Hal are fifteen fucking feet away. Too far. There's not a lot you can do, as Karkat raises his hands and the indigo lets him go and takes a step back to get enough room to take a swing at him and everyone around the two of them instinctively draws back—

And a guy in a dark blue suit darts between the two of them, planting both hands on the indigo asshole's chest and shoving him hard enough to drive him back a step—which you know isn't an easy thing to do. Dave doesn't even try diplomacy here, just whips his shades off and passes them back to Karkat, baring his teeth at the indigo. 

"You fucked up, dude," he says, and takes a step forward, jerking his head back at his quadmate. The next sentence comes out in slightly-accented Alternian. " _You think I can't kill you for touching him? That I won't? I'm a_ Strider—" 

The indigo's eyes go wide again, fixed on Dave's face. What you _expect_ to happen is for the troll to attack, with the result that either Dave ends up knocking him down and out, or that you and Hal step in and end up doing the same thing. What _actually_ happens is that the indigo says, " _Warrior_ ," following it with the trilling growl that you've only ever heard after Signless's name, and falls to his knees, bowing his head. 

Deja vu hits you really fucking hard, and not in a good way, as Dave stares at the kneeling troll before him.

" _Shit,_ " you mutter as Hal steadies you. 

"Dirk?" your twin murmurs. "What's—" 

"Nothing. Tell you later." _He looks like D,_ you think, but Hal wasn't there for that incident. You shake your head to clear the memory, and look back up at Dave. 

He hasn't moved at all. You can't read his expression, but you see him tense up as the indigo reaches into the neckline of his own shirt and pulls out a silver disc on a chain, holding it up like it means something. Maybe it does. From here, it kind of looks like—

"Dave has that on half his goddamn shirts," Hal mutters. "That record. What the fuck—" 

"Oh _fuck_ no," Karkat growls, before Hal can finish. He nudges Dave out of the way, reaching down to rip the pendant out of the indigo's hand. The chain snaps, and Karkat shakes the thing like he's furious at it. "Don't you fucking _dare,_ asswipe. He's not your fucking god to be petitioned, and I swear to the fucking sun if you try that shit I'll shove your fucking amulets up your ass. _All_ of you, highbloods or not. You fucked with my dad already, but he made a goddamn decision, he _planned_ the stupid fucking cult shit because it needed to happen, and Dave isn't—" 

The indigo snarls and lunges up at Karkat. The only reason he doesn't actually do any damage is because a hand with red-painted claws flashes out and snags one hooked horn, eliciting a choked cry. When the hell did Rufioh get over here?

"Anyone willing to claim this piece of shit?" he asks, dragging the indigo upright and ignoring the whimpering snarls he's provoking. "Fair warning—he's about to get kicked out. By me. And when I kick people out of places, they tend to end up with broken bones." 

"You wouldn't _dare_ —" 

Rufioh shakes the indigo hard enough that you can hear the impact of his teeth as his mouth snaps shut. After a second of no reply, the bronzeblood drags the indigo towards the entrance, leaving Dave to take the pendant out of Karkat's hand. When you and Hal reach his side a moment later, he's still staring at the thing. 

"Dave—" you start, and Hal continues before you can. 

"Are you all right? Both of you?" 

"I'm fucking pissed that this shit decided to roll around again," the troll growls. 

Dave just shakes his head. "Didn't fuckin' touch me," he says absently. "Fine. 'm fine." 

"I'm calling bullshit," you tell him. 

"Cool, go ahead. Hal, buy me a drink." 

"You're underage," the android points out. "And also the designated driver, unless I misunderstood the plans for tonight."

Dave just rolls his eyes at the first point, but bites his lip on the second, giving Karkat a pleading look. The look earns him his shades back, and a subtle nod from the troll that you still manage to pick up on. 

"Karkat's the designated driver, I'm like, two months underage, and you break the law all the fucking time. Come _on._ " And he seizes Hal's wrist, pulling him towards the end of the room where the bar is. 

You sigh, push down the automatic big-bro instincts—you trust Hal, he won't get Dave _that_ drunk—and turn your attention to Karkat, who still looks amazingly displeased. "So," you ask him, "what exactly was that all about?"

* * *

The answer you get is full of more profanity than is strictly necessary, but you don't have any trouble sorting out the core information in it. That doesn't mean that you're not slightly stunned by it, though. 

Alternian politics and religion are almost inextricably intertwined. That, you already knew; it was always pretty obvious when you were growing up on Alternia. The most obvious sect/cult is usually that of the Empress (although that's changed a little bit now, since the last one was removed from power) but there's always almost innumerable lesser cults, built up around other people. Usually living people, although there are exceptions.

Signless was one of those people, partly by design and partly by chance. That's why you've heard the honorific suffix attached to his name, the one that Karkat says translates to something like _leader_ and something like _center_ and doesn't really translate to English at all. Karkat glances around the room, then huffs and pulls out the Cancer symbol he wears around his neck, under his shirt. That's the symbol of his dad's cult, he says, the cult of the Sufferer, and Dave's is (apparently) the cracked record. 

You have no idea why Dave would have that kind of following, but when you ask about it Karkat just shrugs. 

"Dave played around with blood sports and shit," he says. "The first time we met in person, he was beat halfway to hell from a fight—he told me he took down a cobalt in hand-to-hand. Humans don't _do_ that. Fuck, _nobody_ does that—those fucking bluebloods are unstoppable when they're pissed off, and fuck knows Dave pissed the asshole off." Another shrug, and a hesitation. "He told me he'd been doing that shit for a while. And that he didn't really lose, ever, and that wasn't bragging. It makes sense that some idiots would pick him up as one of _those._ " 

"The Warrior." 

Karkat shakes his head. "I think it'd translate to Knight better than Warrior. Not that I fucking care; i want them to leave my ma—my moir—my fucking _boyfriend_ alone." 

"I mean, I doubt that specific asshole will be coming back." 

"I hope he tells every fucking one of his idiot friends to back the fuck off too," Karkat grumbles, and stalks off in the direction of Kankri, who's just arrived and looks extremely confused about everyone's outfits. 

You take that as a sign that this conversation is over, and head off to find Dave.

* * *

He isn't exactly hiding, but he isn't making himself obvious either. Just leaning against the wall with a glass of something violently pink in one hand, shades settled firmly back where they belong. 

"How many of those have you had?" you have to ask. 

"Two. This is my third." Dave frowns into the liquid, taking a sip. "Hal's done buying them for me. Could totally get one apiece from Jake 'n Rufioh, though. Maybe Yantis. She always liked me." He sighs, running his free hand through his hair and glancing at you with a rueful smile. "Can't fuckin' believe that she was at the one stupid party I go to. Plus that asshole. I met him before, did you know that? Took him in a fight, went to third blood in like, three minutes 'cause I knew he'd get dangerous if I dragged it out any further. Matt _hated_ how short that one was, but nobody really complained. Too impressed." 

As he stops to take a deeper drink of his pink shit, you ask a question that doesn't really matter. "Would this be something Bro made you do?" 

It's a stupid question, too. There's too much of a chance it'll be a trigger for Dave to stiffen up, shrug and dodge and stop talking altogether. You hate yourself for asking it as soon as the words are out of your mouth. 

But Dave just shakes his head. "Nah, this was after him. Before the guy ended up killin' him, though. My idea. The fighting, not killing Bro. But—" His mouth twists into an expression you don't understand; when he shoves his drink at you, you automatically take it. "Alright, I'm gonna make a goddamn executive decision here—I've had enough alcohol. Too fuckin' talkative already." 

The glass is only half-empty; you consider for a second before setting it on the closest table. "You okay?" 

Another shrug. "I still want to fight. Like, not right now, just...fuck. I miss that shit sometimes, okay? But I promised Karkat I wouldn't it again. Wouldn't fight like that. Not for—not for fun, whatever the fuck I was doing it for before. Wasn't really fun, but I—fuck. _Fuck_." 

Damn. 

You're not really sure how to handle this. 

But you do know who will. 

You move slow, just in case Dave wants to avoid contact, but he lets you wrap an arm around his shoulders without any complaint. Hell, he even leans into the touch. 

"Let's go find your quadmate," you tell him, and he nods and lets himself be guided back towards the approximate location of where you left Karkat. Back where Dave belongs, in your opinion.The two of them can take care of each other, and you and Hal can fill in any cracks in the defenses. 

It'll work fine.

It _does_ work fine. You know it does.

**Author's Note:**

> Stèkhàѓ - Warrior. Trill suffix added to indicate god-like status.  
> Pronounced "Stee-khae-ruh" with the 'ruh' being the trill.
> 
> (thanks to [billyjoeparker](http://billyjoeparker.tumblr.com/) for that Alternian word!)


End file.
